


Headfirst for Halos

by FredAndGinger, SpinalBaby



Series: Danger Days [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Danger Days, Angst, But like she's never a big part of anything so don't worry about her, Courfeyrac - Freeform, Eponine - Freeform, Feuilly - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, OC- Angelica, She was mentioned in the other fics?, This is pretty weird, and, gavroche - Freeform, idk what to tag it because it's so short, jehan - Freeform, mentions of - Freeform, the bombing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FredAndGinger/pseuds/FredAndGinger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinalBaby/pseuds/SpinalBaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the wedding, Enjolras has a nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>The two teenagers got dressed rather quickly before departing from the abandoned security post. Enjolras gave it one last look back before they left, furrowing his brow. The faces on the mural were smashed in and everything was strewn about. He turned back to Grantaire, who was smiling at him and promptly forgot the oddity that lay behind them. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Headfirst for Halos

Enjolras lay beside Grantaire, their fingers intertwined. The blond smiled, nothing in the world could have been more perfect than this moment right here. He looked back at the mural behind him, musing a little. The Death of Hyacinthos. 

“Grantaire?” The young man asked, pressing one of the brunette’s warm strong hands against his cheek. 

“Yeah, Apollo?” The teenager asked, eyes still closed as he cherished the afterglow of their first time together.

“Do you really think of me like that?” Enjolras asked, referring to the glowing deity he’d been painted as on the wall.

“For sure. You shine brighter than the morning sun my dearest Apollo.” Grantaire smirked, opening an eye to look over at Enjolras.

“You’re such a sap. I love you so much…” Enjolras laughed a little. Suddenly he sat up, “Grantaire?”

“Yes, Apollo?” The brunette asked, sitting up a little.

“Will you run away with me?” Enjolras felt a little hopeful, smiling at Grantaire. 

“Anytime you want.” The brunette grinned. 

Enjolras beamed, “Right now?”

“After we get dressed.” Grantaire smirked.

“No shit.” Enjolras laughed, pushing Grantaire’s shoulder lightly. 

The two teenagers got dressed rather quickly before departing from the abandoned security post. Enjolras gave it one last look back before they left, furrowing his brow. The faces on the mural were smashed in and everything was strewn about. He turned back to Grantaire, who was smiling at him and promptly forgot the oddity that lay behind them. 

They walked for a couple blocks hand in hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world when they spotted Courfeyrac and Combeferre in the car Courf had been working on over the summer. His friends were dressed in outlandish clothes but it rather suited them. What struck him as the most odd was the gun Combeferre held, his arm dangling slightly out the window. He was covered in a light spray of red liquid too, a bandana securely tied around his mouth.

“Hey losers!” Courfeyrac called. “Get in, we’re gonna blow this town.” 

“Come on,” Enjolras grinned, getting in the car, “These are my friends. Combeferre and Courfeyrac.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Grantaire said as he got in, closing the door behind them. People walked in the streets as if nothing odd was going on at all.

“Who is he?” Combeferre asked, looking back, voice muffled by the bandana. Why was he wearing glasses?

“Oh, this is my boyfriend, Grantaire. That graffiti artist, R.” Enjolras replied as he buckled in his seat belt. He buckled Grantaire’s as well, making the artist chuckle. “Safety first.” He stuck out his tongue.

“Aw, I was so looking forward to that virginity party I was going to throw you once we got out to the wastelands.”

“But he’s already slept with me.” Combeferre said, turning to Courfeyrac.

“What?! And you didn’t tell me you _best friend_?”

Enjolras laughed a little, snuggling up against Grantaire in the back seat. His boyfriend put an arm around him, smiling ahead. “Enj?”

“Yeah?” Enjolras asked, closing his eyes.

“I just want you to know I’m yours.” He kissed the blond’s temple. “Forever.”

…

Enjolras woke up beside Grantaire in the bed he usually shared with Combeferre in the Musain. Odd, he didn’t remember how they’d left the city, or how they’d gotten here, but that was all in the past. He smiled, leaning over and kissing Grantaire on the cheek. He looked so peaceful as he slept. 

He carefully crept out of bed so as not to disturb Grantaire. He had to go give his radio broadcast. When he got downstairs he saw Angelica already at the radio. 

“About time you woke up, sleepy head.” She waved, laughing. 

“Hey, where’s Jehan?” Enjolras asked, grabbing his headphones and putting them on. 

“Oh, he’s off with Gavroche, Eponine, and Courf. They’re taking him to a Students concert.” Angelica said as she adjusted some things on on the switch board. 

“What if the Ops raid? That doesn’t seem all that safe.” Enjolras commented.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” She shrugged, “You ready boss?”

“Ready.” He nodded. He heard a tone through his headphones and began to talk, “Look alive New Paris, it’s Enjolras here on 107.5 TFII. I’m here to bring you the latest traffic and to ask you all to wish a little luck to my friends heading out to the city today. One unlucky man is about to get very lucky with a one-way ticket back to the wastelands.”

The speech he gave was inspiring, but it felt like it was lacking, like someone should have come in at any moment to tell him something. Something important, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When he got off air he went in search of Grantaire again, walking past Bahorel and Feuilly fucking on the landing.

“Hey, Enj, why don’t you join us?” Bahorel grunted a little. 

“He’s busy babe,” Feuilly said, pulling his lover back to him. “Actually, Enjolras-”

“Yeah?” Enjolras asked, looking at the ginger with Bahorel all over him. For some reason he didn’t feel embarrassed, given the situation they were in.

“I’d really appreciate it if you stopped sending Bahorel and I on all these suicide missions. Especially when you won’t even send Grantaire to get the mail.” 

Enjolras blinked, surprised by the venomous tone. “Yeah- sorry…” He felt oddly guilty, walking to go see Combeferre in his lab. 

He saw the tall man all geared up, carefully putting chemicals into vials and measuring them out. “Ah, Enjolras. You’re just the person I wanted to see. I wanted to tell you the resistance drug is coming along well.”

Enjolras smiled, “That’s good to hear.” He walked over to his friend looking at the chemicals. He had an odd moment of deja vu. 

“Ferre. I feel like this has all happened before.” Enjolras said, turning to the taller man.

“Happened before? What do you mean-” Ferre’s words were cut off by a deafening sound, followed by what felt like an earthquake. Chemicals fell off the shelves and counter, shattering and bursting into clouds of powder. Enjolras felt like his lungs were on fire as he breathed in the dust-like substances. It felt like he was inhaling death itself, but he had no time to react as the ceiling began to crumble and he fell to the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his arm, but Combeferre yanked him up and ran for it, getting them out of the building safely. When they’d made it to safety on the sand outside the Musain Enjolras looked back at his crumbling home. That was odd, it looked like a hotel now. Very familiar and yet- not the Musain. That’s when the realization struck him. His friends were still in there.

“They- they’re still in there!” Enjolras shouted. Combeferre grabbed him tightly by the arm, causing the blond an immense amount of shooting pain. 

“You can’t!” He insisted, looking at Enjolras. He was covered in blood. So much blood. It was like a spray of blood from shooting someone, but there was so much of it. He violently wrenched himself away, running toward the settling rubble.

“Grantaire! Grantaire! Where are you?” He nearly coughed out a lung, straining his voice, but he still tried to shout. He could see Bahorel, sobbing over a bloody and burned shell of what must have been Feuilly. He felt ill, but continued to trudge through the wreckage. He stumbled as he felt something grab a hold of his ankle, causing him to trip onto something oddly soft and squishy. When he looked back at what had caught his ankle, he saw Angelica’s hand, barely above the rubble gripping his leg with the last bit of life she had in her. When he looked to see what he’d fallen on, he saw the bloody mess that was Grantaire.

“Let go!” Enjolras screamed, kicking his leg to free his ankle. He felt panic rising in his chest as he stared at Grantaire, who lie there, blue eyes wide open, his face frozen in an expression of terror. He was filled with bullet holes all through his chest and stomach, as if a whole squad of Ops had shot him when he’d tried to flee the crumbling building. He was so still, and so bloody- Enjolras let out a broken sob, trying to cover the bullet wounds with his hands- keep his already dead husband from bleeding out, but there were so many holes.

“Grantaire- R- no! NO!” He screamed, bringing a fist down to the brunette’s chest, making the corpse jolt a little. “GRANTAIRE!”

…

Enjolras shot awake, screaming. He barely registered that it was him, making that unholy noise as he trembled, hands gripping his blond curls. He looked beside him to see no Grantaire. “GRANTAIRE! GRANTAIRE! GRANTAIRE!” He screamed the name as if the missing man would just appear beside him in an instant and be there to hold him.

The man was in fact back on his way to the motel room with a glass of water in hand when he heard the scream. He dropped the glass, running back to the room. The sight that greeted him made his stomach lurch. 

“Enjolras, Enj, shhh, stop screaming-” He panicked as he tried to hold the shaking blond, curling up against him, “Enjolras I’m right here, please don’t cry-” He kissed the blond’s head over and over again to try and calm him down, and squeezed him tighter. 

The image of Enjolras’ terrified expression with his hands clutching his hair as he screamed, looking ahead as if Grantaire wasn’t even there- it scared him. It shook him to the core, but he was finally beginning to feel Enjolras relaxing in his arms. At some point as he’d been lost in his thoughts, Enjolras had stopped screaming.

“I’ve got you, Enjolras. I’m not going anywhere.” Grantaire whispered, pressing his head against Enjolras’ curls. “I’m right here.”

The blond was still a sobbing mess, shaking but he nodded a little. He had realized Grantaire was there, holding him, and he was at the motel. He was safe, Grantaire was safe. He looked up at the still open door, seeing Combeferre and Bahorel both standing in the doorway. They looked worried. Enjolras didn’t say anything to quell their worries, simply burying his face into Grantaire’s chest. Grantaire was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for being patient through the weird update schedule. Good news! We just finished the true sequel to Danger Days. It's going to be called Conventional Weapons and we'll begin posting in two days and updating every other day, so get ready for some drama!
> 
> -FredAndGinger


End file.
